The Old Man In Leather

One misty, moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather,
There I met an old man clothed all in leather, clothed all in leather,
With cap under his chin,
How do you do, how do you do, how do you do, again, again.

Walter Crane

Walter Crane was an English artist and book illustrator, considered to be one of the most prolific and influential children's book creators of his generation. Born on August 15, 1845, and passing away on March 14, 1915, he was part of the Arts and Crafts movement and is known for his innovative contributions to children's literature. His work often combined art and poetry, aiming to educate and delight young readers.

Walter Crane

Margery Daw

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

The Trees & The Woodman

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Oranges & Lemons

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

Billy Pringle

Walter Crane, Simple Poetry

English

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Nursery Rhyme. CXXXII. Songs.

        [This is the version generally given in nursery collections, but is somewhat different in the 'Pills to Purge Melancholy,' 1719, vol. iv, p. 148.]

    One misty moisty morning
    When cloudy was the weather,
    There I met an old man
    Clothed all in leather;
    Clothed all in leather,
    With cap under his chin, -
    How do you do, and how do you do,
    And how do you do again!

Unknown

Warm Hands

Warm hands, warm, thy men are gone to plough;
If you want to warm your hands, warm your hands now.

Walter Crane

The Mulberry Bush

Here we go round the mulberry bush,
the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush;
Here we go round the mulberry bush,
All on a frosty morning.

This is the way we clap our hands,
This is the way we clap our hands,
This is the way we clap our hands,
All on a frosty morning.

Walter Crane

The Old Men

Old and alone, sit we,
Caged, riddle-rid men;
Lost to Earth's "Listen!" and "See!"
Thought's "Wherefore?" and "When?"

Only far memories stray
Of a past once lovely, but now
Wasted and faded away,
Like green leaves from the bough.

Vast broods the silence of night,
The ruinous moon
Lifts on our faces her light,
Whence all dreaming is gone.

We speak not; trembles each head;
In their sockets our eyes are still;
Desire as cold as the dead;
Without wonder or will.
And One, with a lanthorn, draws near,
At clash with the moon in our eyes:
"Where art thou?" he asks: "I am here,"
One by one we arise.

And none lifts a hand to withhold
A friend from the touch of that foe:
Heart cries unto heart, "Thou art old!"
Ye...

Walter De La Mare

The Two Crabs

"So awkward, so shambling a gait!"
Mrs Crab did her daughter berate,
Who rejoined, "It is true
I am backward; but you
Needed lessons in walking quite late."

Look At Home

Walter Crane

Elderly Gentleman, The

By the side of a murmuring stream an elderly gentleman sat.
On the top of his head was a wig, and a-top of his wig was his hat.

The wind it blew high and blew strong, as the elderly gentleman sat;
And bore from his head in a trice, and plunged in the river his hat.

The gentleman then took his cane which lay by his side as he sat;
And he dropped in the river his wig, in attempting to get out his hat.

His breast it grew cold with despair, and full in his eye madness sat;
So he flung in the river his cane to swim with his wig, and his hat.

Cool reflection at last came across while this elderly gentleman sat;
So he thought he would follow the stream and look for his cane, wig, and hat.

His head being thicker than common, o'er-balanced the rest of his fat;
And...

George Canning